


Howdy, Neighbor!

by Unusual_Raccoon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s01e9 The Series Finale, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Sex, inappropriate use of magic, top wanda maximoff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29928123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unusual_Raccoon/pseuds/Unusual_Raccoon
Summary: As per her promise, Wanda pays dear Agnes a visit.
Relationships: Agatha Harkness/Wanda Maximoff, Agnes (WandaVision) & Wanda Maximoff
Comments: 28
Kudos: 158





	Howdy, Neighbor!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic does contain some WandaVision spoilers, so if you haven't finished to show, specifically the finale I don't recommend you read this.
> 
> While this fic isn't heavy on plot, I just thought I'd preface that.
> 
> Also please excuse any spelling errors!

Agnes knew she would be expecting company one day, just knew it. So, she prepared for it. She kept up to date on all of the juiciest town gossip, kept Senor Scratchy well fed and his cage clean. She kept her house tidy as can be, it was pretty easy when she was the only one living there, there was only so much of a mess she could make on her own.

Every now and again when she’d start feeling a little lonely, she’d peek out at the empty lot next door, before drowning her sorrows in a pint of white chocolate raspberry ice cream and uncorking a nice velvety red wine. She’d kick her feet up on her coffee table after a long day, sip at her wine and enjoy a few spoons of ice cream while dozing off to re-runs of old sitcoms during the wee hours.

Her life worked like that, rinse and repeat. It was dull, but it was hers, and when things got too bland, there was always the buffet of suburban household drama to spice life up.

She had gotten in from her speed-walking session with Sarah from a few houses down, changed out of her clothes and hopped into the shower.

Agnes forewent the traditional pint of ice cream and just grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine instead. She poured herself a generous glass, swirling the aromatic blood red liquid while some game show played on the TV. Lifting the glass, fingers curled around the stem, the resident nosy neighbor leapt up in surprise at the chime of her doorbell.

Just like that, company had  _ finally _ arrived. Setting her glass down with a grin, Agnes hurried over to the door in her pajamas.

Agnes pulled the door open, grinning at the sight of a familiar face,

“Well I’ll be - Howdy, neighbor.” She called excitedly at the sight of her former neighbor, Wanda Maximoff. The redhead smiled from beneath the cover of her dark hood.

“Agnes.” Wanda greeted quietly, “Can I come in?” She asked, hands stuffed into the pockets of her burgundy peacoat. That musical slavic accent made it nearly impossible to say no, not that Agnes would’ve either way. With a smile the brunette opened the door to let her former, but still treasured, neighbor into her home.

“So?” Agnes called playfully as she scurried off to the kitchen to fix Wanda some tea, “How are things, hot stuff?”

She had filled up the kettle and placed it on her stovetop, flicking on one of the burners before lowering the heat to a reasonable medium. Shuffling back to the living area in her slippers, Agnes smiled at the sight of Wanda, sans her coat and sweatshirt which now resided on the rack by the door, sitting on the couch waiting for her.

“Things are...uneventful.” Wanda answered as Agnes sank down into the cushions beside her. Well, that certainly didn’t sound like the Wanda she knew.

“And you?” Wanda asked, reaching out to grab Agnes’ previously abandoned glass of wine.

“Wine and,” She paused to glance at the television, “game shows?” The redhead asked with a smirk.

Agnes shrugged playfully, “Sitcoms are on in an hour.” Leaning forward she moved to take her wine glass back, her fingers curling around Wanda’s where they still gripped the delicate stem.

“And you know me,” Agnes drawled, feeling a bubble of warmth bloom in her belly, “I love a good red.” She purred, flirtatiously tugging at one of Wanda’s ginger curls. Okay, maybe she was laying it on a little thick, but that was only because she had a thing for her young recently-widowed neighbor. And by the curl of Wanda’s lips, she knew it too.

Wanda was staring at her now more unabashedly, head tilted as her lips spread wider into a fond smirk.

“I’ve missed you.” She murmured with a small chuckle, green eyes crinkling with a coy smile.

Agnes snorted as she sipped at her wine, nudging Wanda with her knee, “That’s sweet, toots, but I’ve been exactly where ya left me.” It was almost rueful, not that Agnes particularly knew why, but she was mad about something - probably just bitter over being alone.

Then Wanda was staring at the television, the glow of the screen surrounding her like a halo while she snorted at something nonsensical, her nose wrinkling adorably. Yes, Agnes realized, she was mad, mad she had lost this. Sure, things weren’t perfect before, Wanda was married and all, but at the very least they had been friends.

Agnes leapt up at the distracting howl of the kettle whistling. She rushed over, turning off the stove as she grabbed a mug from the cabinet and some different boxes of tea - might as well give Wanda some choices.

“Agnes…” Wanda called, her voice far closer than the living room. The ghost of warmth against the back of her neck sent the ceramic mug clattering against the tile floor in the kitchen.

She began to crouch down to gather the shards, when suddenly in a swirl of red the pieces were sailing back together, bit by bit until the mug sat on the counter unblemished as it had been before. It should’ve been worrying, having something like that happen before her very eyes, but for some reason it wasn’t. For some reason it made Agnes  _ proud _ .

“Neat trick.” She hummed, shivering when she felt Wanda step closer to her.

“Agnes.” Wanda called again, voice a little huskier, one glowing red palm framing her hip through the fabric of her robe.

“Have you been behaving?” Wanda asked thickly, making the dark haired woman nearly swoon. Hot damn, that had to be something out of a wet dream.

“Asking the town gossip if she’s kept her nose clean, huh?” Agnes retorted, trying to keep her voice relatively even and unshaken, despite the way her knees were bowing together at the pulse of heat growing between her thighs.

“Well have you?” Wanda asked, that pretty Sokovian accent sounding sweeter than any symphony Agnes could think of when purred all sweet and syrupy into her ear.

The older woman snorted, the brief sound of laughter turning to a gasp at the possessive clasp of Wanda’s other hand digging into her other hip.

“I’ve been good.” Agnes admitted, though for reasons she couldn’t figure, the words burned like acid on her tongue. She hardly had time to dwell on that when Wanda’s lips were on her neck, those magic hands moving up to give her breasts a squeeze through the fabric of her pajamas and robe alike.

Agnes leaned happily into the warm electric touch of Wanda’s palms, feeling her nipples stiffen through the thin material of her pajama top, jutting into the glittery heat her hands radiated. A fluttery exhale escaping her where she felt Wanda’s lips hitch higher, sucking the flesh teasingly between her teeth, lathing the bit of skin with flicks of her tongue.

She let out a moan, head falling back to rest on Wanda’s shoulder, while the redhead persisted. Those warm palms held her close as Wanda began to rock her hips gently against Agnes. The coarse friction sent a pang of want through the older woman. It was potent and churning in her stomach, urging her to rut back against Wanda in earnest.

Then Wanda began hissing something into Agnes’ ear that was decidedly not English, but she’d never heard something so damn arousing. For all she knew Wanda could’ve been reciting a recipe in Sokovian and it still had her leaking like a faucet.

Agnes let out a groan at the staticky rasp of her pebbled nipples between Wanda’s electric fingers. Her former neighbor persisted grinding her hips against Agnes, a heavy back and forth motion, like Wanda was trying to fuck her like that - fully clothed rutting against her ass like a wild animal.

The brunette let out a long moan, bracing her hands against the kitchen counter, knocking forwards boxes of tea as she steadied herself. Wanda’s hands tightening where they groped at her chest, cruel fingers thumbing at her erect nipples, making the ache between her thighs that much more bothersome.

Agnes trembled, pushing back against the crotch of Wanda’s little painted-on skinny jeans, spine tingling at the starved musical words Wanda groaned into her ear.

“Oh, honey, I have no idea what you’re saying, but please don’t stop.” Agnes panted, attempting to dig her nails into the smooth countertop for naught. A yelp escaping the brunette as she was jerked around suddenly, pinned beneath the glimmer of Wanda’s eyes that glinted like uncut rubies in the underwhelming kitchen light. A firm hand against the back of her knee hiking her leg to dangle back across the flare of Wanda’s hip, Agnes’ legs spread for the little redhead to fit neatly between them. The hot seam of her jeans pushing against Agnes’ crotch now, the thin material of her pajama pants did little to muffle to the fiery ache of this contact; and she loved it.

There was something about the power Wanda exuded that electrified her, it lit her up from the inside out like a battery. A pulse of heat brightened between her thighs as Wanda continued grinding against her, hot hands clutching at her hips keeping her close, though Agnes was entirely certain there was nowhere else she would rather be.

“I said,” Wanda drawled, voice thick with her labored breathing, eyes glowing hotter than the lowest circles of hell, “I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you...my nosy neighbor,” She purred, one hand stroking over the brunette’s cheek fondly, “My Agnes.”

The older woman keened a desperate sound, lurching forward with a hungry grind of her hips, Agnes was almost sure the material of her pajama pants would soon spark a fire from all of the friction they inspired, but she couldn’t care, not when Wanda was staring at her like  _ that _ .

“Would you like to see another trick, Agnes?” Wanda asked hungrily, mouth grinning against the hollow of Agnes’ throat. The usually talkative brunette was rendered mute, simply offering an eager nod in response.

“I thought so.” Wanda purred, pulling her lips from the warmth of Agnes’ neck long enough to perform another mind-boggling feat. With a clever snap of her fingers, the glow of her red eyes winking like a lightbulb that was about to explode - she could see the heat swelling and growing, wires glowing and crackling until  _ boom _ .

There was a cloud of red that swallowed her up, she breathed it in, sputtering and breathless as it filled her lungs. It was sweet and tasted of cinnamon and  _ Wanda _ . As the cloud of red dissipated, Agnes felt a chill sweep over her, warmth burning in her cheeks at the realization that her clothes were, well, gone. All expect the simple little cotton panties she had thrown on after her shower.

Agnes licked her lips, a line of tension coiling behind her sternum, her body throbbed for attention now. She was unbearably sensitive when tempted with the warmth of Wanda’s hands.

“Couch.” Wanda said, head tilted back towards the living area, “Now.”

Like she always did, Agnes listened, scrambling the distance to the couch as she was instructed, sitting impatient but supplicant for Wanda to join her. Agnes watched with eager eyes as the casual clothing Wanda had been wearing, her little t-shirt and skintight jeans, melted away to reveal that stunning outfit she had taken to strutting around in shortly after leaving Westview. It was a deep tasteful shade of red, smooth and fitting like leather yet still seeming durable, with a little similarly colored crown that sat atop Wanda’s head like a pair of horns.

Agnes was positive she’d never seen anything so beautiful. The approaching click of Wanda’s heels making the heat between her legs grow. Her eyes studied the fluid sway of the train of fabric that hung down from the back of her top, swishing this way and that, like a curtain of blood.

Then Wanda was looming above her, lips pulled into a sharp smile before languidly crouching down before Agnes. Coy gloved hands smoothed up the width of her thighs, fond fingers framing over the width of the brunette’s hips. Agnes marveled at the warmth she felt, burning like skin to skin even through material of Wanda’s gloves. Those magical fingers gliding teasingly beneath the cotton of the older woman’s underwear, dark digits extending the fabric far enough to pull it gently down her lean legs. Agnes could feel the damp stickiness of the crotch where it brushed her calf on the way down, dripping off her ankles with little effort.

It felt far too mundane of a way to rid her of her last article of clothing, at least by Wanda’s standards of just magicking them away.

She shivered, more wetness clinging embarrassingly between her legs as Wanda reverently stroked a finger over the neatly maintained pubic hair between the older woman’s thighs. The redhead purred something musical in Sokovian, fingers rasping over Agnes’ flesh.

“Agnes?” Wanda called with a hum, those imploring crimson eyes piercing through the dark.

“Yes?” The brunette responded, voice hoarse as she tried not to squirm into the lazy brush of Wanda’s fingers.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” The question was asked so simply, like it wasn’t blatantly obvious by the copious liquid desire that she wept from the gash between her thighs. The words were so potent, like gasoline to a fire, when colored with the lilt of Wanda’s accent.

The dark haired woman whistled out a desperate exhale, breathless as she stared at her beloved former neighbor where she resided knelt at her feet - the picture of submission while radiating unimaginable power.

“Yes.” Agnes hissed, swallowing to wet her parched throat. Her stomach seizing with a glittery warmth as Wanda’s curious smile turned feral, appearing just as starved as Agnes felt.

“Good.” Wanda murmured, rising up from her spot crouched on the floor effortlessly. With a wave of her hand, fingers drenched in the red glow of her magic, Agnes watched in awe as her friend made some  _ adjustments _ to her outfit. Replacing the rather modest top of her attire was a rather revealing iteration, showcasing those pale breasts with a tantalizing quarter-cup bra, mouthwatering blood-red nipples jutting out hypnotically. The bottom half of her suit saw similar changes, exchanging the dark pants with similarly revealing crotchless panties that glimmered a sheer shade of red and a harness fastened around her narrow hips in the same durable maroon leather that typically made up her suit, protruding proudly from the harness was a thick synthetic cock - it was tapered and beautiful and just begging to be buried inside of the brunette.

“What do you think?” Wanda asked playfully with a cute scrunch of her nose, apparently undeterred by the stupefied look Agnes shot her. She shimmied her shoulders a little like she was showing off a new outfit and not an incredibly sexy, magic lingerie.

“I can’t.” The brunette sputtered with a laugh, in every fantasy she had ever entertained involving her gorgeous neighbor, Agnes had never once pictured this.

The pleased flash of Wanda’s teeth made the older woman quake with want, cunt weeping in earnest now, thighs wet with her natural lubrication, hungry for her cock.

“Turn over.” Wanda said with a grin, kneeling down onto the couch to join her. Agnes had always been a shrewd listener, benefits of being the town gossip, and so she complied without hesitation. She turned herself over onto her stomach, knees bunched beneath her as she tossed a few throw pillows aside to make room. Agnes excitedly cast a glance over her shoulder, her hands braced against the arm of the couch, her eyes ravenously watching as Wanda situated herself. The redhead shuffled closer on her knees, red dildo swaying with the movement. One gloved hand giving the imposing length a languorous stroke from root to tip.

Agnes trembled at the cruel glide of that synthetic member between her slick thighs, so heavy and lifelike where it jabbed at her skin. Wanda kept her steady with one glowing palm curled around Agnes’ hip and the other straightening the trajectory of her strap-on to bury the length inside in one smooth, toe-curling motion.

The older woman bowed up dramatically in response, thighs grinding together as she recovered from the shock of the jarring intrusion. Her nerves were singing, heat building beneath her skin like magma rushing the surface. Hot and overwhelming, her blunt nails bit into the microfiber material of the couch as the redhead began to rock her hips.

It was a torturous period, shifting and shaking, as Wanda found a steady rhythm. Agnes whimpered, her face hot and her cunt throbbing beneath her neighbor’s tutelage.

She writhed, gasping at each hard thrust, Wanda’s cock plunging in, filling her to the point of bursting before pulling out, all within the blink of an eye, again and again. The obscene clap of flesh meeting flesh drowned out the staticky buzz of the game show that was still playing on the television.

Her cunt futilely clutched at the thick cock each time it entered, broad head splitting her open, buried deep like a knife to the gut.

If getting fucked by her wasn’t enough, the brunette felt her skin tingle at the warmth of Wanda’s magic hanging in the air. Heat ghosted across her skin, a lazy caress at first, slow and palpitating like an open flame. It was deliberate and teasing where it roved over her skin, sensation spilling across nerve endings.

The harsh thrust of the dildo slowed, leaving Agnes whining wantonly for more, Wanda’s breathing stuttering as electric pinpricks of magic tightened over the brunette. Red ripples danced like ribbons through the air, ghosting over Agnes’ skin.

A gasp wrenching from the older woman, what little air remained punched straight from her lungs at the warm,  _ wet _ glide of something over her clit. The feeling persisted, lashing unrepentantly at the plump bundle of nerves, dragging back and forth as Wanda continued rocking into her.

It wasn’t until the brunette felt the warm caress between her thighs once more, deliberate and slick that her brain, overclocked with input, managed to decipher what the feeling was. It was magic, raw, hot magic rippling from Wanda’s clever mind in the shape of a  _ tongue _ . It pushed and prodded at Agnes’ clit, lapping in quick flicks, drawing small squeals of pleasure from the older woman.

Agnes groaned, her whole body shifting at the jarring thrust of Wanda’s cock back into her, reestablishing her punishing pace from before. The sensation was overwhelming, cock filling her up, tongue lathing over her clit, Agnes crooned, nerves shocked when another pair of psionic tongues joined the party. One at each breast. The magical tongues, wet and flexible, twirled in unison over each nipple, flicking endlessly at both firm peaks.

At long last when she thought there wasn’t anymore she could take, body docile like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Wanda pushed her beyond those limits. An additional concentrated ripple of magic pushed between her lips, agile and plunging with a mind of its own, tangling with Agnes’ own tongue. 

There she remained, content as nothing more than a piece of meat for the redhead at her rear to use, suspended in that unbearable bliss, held together with her torturous magic.

Agnes whimpered hungrily around the magic in her mouth, staticky red that took the shape of a tongue, sucking on it with a whine. The brunette felt emboldened by the dreamy sound of Wanda’s resulting moan.

Those gloved fingers, tingling with magic dug into Agnes’ hips, steadying her as Wanda pushed into her, massive member sawing into the brunette’s cunt without end.

Agnes pushed back to meet her lover’s thrusts, clever psionic tongues lapping hungrily at her flesh, stimulating her nipples and licking fervently at her clit. The other stroking across her tongue, fond and hot, tasting of cinnamon and Wanda.

It was overwhelming and magical, enduring such a beautiful torment, Agnes thought as she felt herself fluttering tellingly around the cock buried deeply inside of her. She moaned futilely around the tongue in her mouth, the sound of her cries muffled by Wanda’s magic as her orgasm arrived, bursting deep from within her being, erupting explosively then like a long dormant volcano. 

Agnes collapsed down against the couch, skin damp with sweat, eyes disappeared beneath her heavy lids. The brunette remained a boneless heap atop the cushions, swallowed up in her mind-numbing release where it consumed her more readily than Wanda’s titillating psionic tongues had. Every now and again she’d tremble at the cruel caress of glittering magic over her skin.

Her cunt gripping down on the cock still buried inside of her heat, elastic walls clenching down over the dildo filling her up. Her greedy hole flexing at the sound of her lover’s labored breathing.

Sluggishly gathering herself back onto her knees, head still spinning with her orgasm, Agnes turned to face Wanda who remained knelt dutifully on the couch. A gloved finger crooked beneath her chin as Wanda hummed a happy sound.

Agnes may not have magic,  _ anymore _ a bitter voice in her head chimed in, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make the other woman feel good too.

She hungrily eyed the redhead from behind her unkempt hair, overgrown dark bangs obscuring her vision as she crept closer to Wanda.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asked, lips quirked into a tired smile as Agnes nuzzled between her thighs. Her nose and lips wet with Wanda’s arousal, it was a miracle she hadn’t come yet with how absolutely soaked she was. Agnes ignored her, yelping at the sting of magic that tingled over the supple flesh of rear like the scrape of teeth - Wanda’s teeth.

“Mind helping a girl out?” Agnes asked as she playfully flicked the strap-on and adjoining harness that was obscuring her path to the pretty pink slit she desired. Her eyes grew dark and tongue wet as she drank in a deep breath of her lover’s musk, sweet and earthen.

Wanda peered down at her, mouth quirked thoughtfully before she relented with each stubborn kiss Agnes placed to her inner thighs. With a twitch of her fingers the harness and dildo vanished, leaving Wanda in her sexy little crotchless panties. Agnes grinned, hoisting Wanda’s legs over her shoulders as she fitted her mouth over the saturated skin between the redhead’s thighs.

A melodic moan left the younger woman as Agnes hummed happily against her slit, sucking at her soaked folds like she was drinking nectar from a flower. Agnes dipped her tongue lower, warm and wet as lapped at the flesh, a gloved hand keeping her head where it was.

Her nose nudged at Wanda’s petite clit, grinning as the stimulation rewarded another wave of wetness on Agnes’ awaiting tongue. She pushed her tongue into her lover’s cunt, moaning an appreciative sound at the snug flex of her walls around the intrusion. Damn, she was tight...Agnes was beginning to seriously doubt whether Wanda had actually popped out those twins with the way her little pussy was squeezing desperately over the older woman’s tongue.

Agnes was happy residing between her lover’s thighs, ravenous mouth locked over that flushed sex. Her clever tongue curling inside of Wanda, drawing forth the most enchanting sounds. 

She alternated between fucking Wanda with her tongue, withdrawing her tongue to lap at the petite bundle of nerves that resided above the pink gash like a crown jewel. Her tongue poked and prodded with all of the intensity Wanda’s psionic tongues had.

Latching her lips around the throbbing fleshy pearl, Agnes hummed gently against that petite bundle, grinding as Wanda’s pubic bone pushed earnestly against her face in response. Oh yeah, she had certainly thought of  _ this _ .

Wanda began a hungry canter of her hips, dripping sex pushed desperately into Agnes’ mouth, and brunette could not have been happier. Her hungry tongue delving back into Wanda to fuck her.

Agnes felt tension begin to build in her jaw, but she remained steadfast, lips and tongue lashing between Wanda’s quivering thighs. The hand in her hair turned cruel, gripping the roots with eye-watering strength as Wanda rutted hungrily against her face babbling in a mix of English and Sokovian. Then the whole room shook, eyes glowing and furniture floating as Wanda arched against Agnes’ mouth with a cry.

After a breath, the redhead slumped back against the arm of the sofa, the brunette squealed as everything that had been floating dropped back to the ground with the lack of Wanda’s magic holding it up. Wine toppled to the floor with a crash and the television flickered briefly. The young witch remained panting as Agnes wriggled up between her legs.The brunette licked her lips as she littered kisses across Wanda’s taut belly, tongue flicking playfully against each stiff nipple before gliding up over her dazed lover for a kiss.

Wanda moaned against her lips, gripping the brunette firmly as she pushed her tongue between Agnes’ lips. It was sloppy and wet, the air smelled thicky of sex and sort of scorched from her magic.

They folded back against the couch, tangled up in one another, hazily watching reruns of sitcoms. Wanda’s fingers stroking over Agnes’ hair while they lounged on the couch, both spent.

It was pleasant, sinking into sleep effortlessly, smiling at the events that had unfolded.

“This was like a dream,” She slurred sleepily, watching the antics of that suburban family flicker on the television screen. A shiver rippling through her, igniting a wave of goosebumps as Wanda placed a kiss to her nape.

“It will be.” She murmured.

Come morning, Agnes awoke with little recollection of the previous night. Baring a mysterious, but pleasant soreness between her legs, redressed in her pajamas from the night before. She’d definitely have to hit the gym more often if one brisk speed-walk took it out of her.

The musical sound of a Sokovian lullaby lingered hauntingly in her ears as did the sight of a blotchy blood red stain of wine on the carpet. The brunette sighed as she fumbled for the remote, she’d also probably have to lay off the wine for a little while, if one measly glass had her spilling it everywhere.

Agnes let out a huff, rubbing at her temples, trying to alleviate ache that resided between them.

Sinking back into the couch, there was something that she couldn’t ignore, a lurid voice in her head that told her one thing:  _ company was coming. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I know there have been plenty of requests for a sequel to Cherry Red, and while I am putting it on my to-do list, I wanted to write this fic as a way of coping with WandaVision ending.
> 
> I had some issues with the finale of WandaVision, but overall I am glad Agatha wasn't killed, because it enabled me to write this lol.
> 
> Anyway, if you enjoyed this fic please don't hesitate to leave a comment and tell me about it, I love to hear what my readers have to say.


End file.
